Fandom: Teen Wolf, NCIS
Warnings: character bashing, murder, discussion of murder, partner betrayal
Summary: Tony was seeing the writing on the wall, unable to avoid what was going on around him any longer. It was an unlikely meeting at an opportune time. A few things just needed to be handled first.
Note: Takes place in somewhere in season 3 of NCIS and after season 3 of TW.
Art by PNZ
DiNozzo was photographing the scene as Gibbs rolled up, last one to arrive as always. Tony didn’t even wait to be asked before he started laying out the facts as he knew them.
“Sergeant Michael Kemper, 30, from Tulsa, Oklahoma. He was here in town on leave with the rest of his unit—arrived yesterday. They are fresh off a four month tour in the hottest vacation spot around, Afghanistan. Half the unit decided to celebrate their first night of freedom together before going their separate ways tomorrow by dancing the night away at this fine establishment. At approximately 2300 hours one of the waitstaff opened the door to find the good Sergeant here just as you see him.
“His unit members are over there getting questioned by McGee, if you would like to join.”
Gibbs took in the scene, and then took in his Senior Field Agent. “And the reason you aren’t doing it? And where is Ziva?”
“Well, I did request that McGee get on bagging and tagging, but he once again felt that was below him, and took it upon himself to just go and question people instead. I will not demean this agency by starting an argument out in the open, Gibbs, with my subordinates. I sure as hell will write it up though, and you will not stop me.” The again was left unsaid. Tony held his gaze, completely sick of this routine.
Gibbs nodded his agreement and walked on to where McGee was, relieved him of his notebook, pushed him over to the truck, and took over the questioning after looking over the notes.
“Why did you have to go and rat me out?” McGee whined.
“I didn’t rat you out, McBrat,” Tony answered wearily. “Gibbs knew all on his own that you were in the wrong place. Just as you knew you were. Now, get going with the bagging and tagging.”
“And so nice of you to join us, Ms. David. Please go join Gibbs with the witnesses,” Tony said without looking up as Ziva approached from behind.
“You are not the boss of me,” she huffed.
Tony cut off whatever tantrum she was about to start, in public no less, and just pointed over at Gibbs. “Go over there and help Gibbs, your actual boss, please.”
Once again, Tony wondered what he was still doing here with this team. There were too many alarm bells going off about David, and McGee and Gibbs were acting like jackasses ever since she joined. Maybe it was time to put some serious thought into opening one of those offers and taking a look.
For now, though, he had a crime scene to check out and subordinates to hover over.
Tony found Corporal Mieczyslaw Stilinski with the rest of the unit at the Marine Barracks. After a short argument with McGee and David, telling them who to go speak with so that all of the questioning could be completed faster, he headed over and introduced himself.
“I was actually never going to be part of that group, and they all knew that,” Stiles told the agent. After insisting on using his nickname, despite being impressed that Tony could pronounce his first name, Stiles was quite happy to cooperate. “On the trip home everyone had discussed their plans for the first night home, and I had already made up my mind. After being stuck with these guys for months on end, and knowing that once I get home it would be at least a week or so before I was given a moments peace again, I needed one night of just me, myself, and I. And a cheeseburger and curly fries.”
Laughing, Tony just waved at him to continue. “I was over at the Dusty Pickle on Pennsylvania Avenue, from 2130 until 0030. The waitress was happy to let me linger at the counter, as I wasn’t bothering anyone and content to sit quietly with my burger and fries—followed by pie, of course—and my book.” Stiles’ sleeve crept up as his arm bent back when he mimed reading his book, showing off his tattoos. The tattoos weren’t just any sort of ink one could get at a parlor, but those of a Spark, something Tony recognized.
Stiles noticed Tony’s recognition and nodded in assent.
“Good pie?” Tony asked, still laughing. He motioned with his head to maybe exit the room, offering privacy.
“The best on this coast, I have to say. If you make your way there—actually, let’s take a walk and I’ll show you. You can then verify both the alibi and the pie at the same time.”
“Not to mention get the security tapes.”
The two of them slipped out, Stiles motioning as if he was showing him something. Once out of sight of the other two, Tony said quietly, “Thank you.”
“Well, I’m not an unobservant fellow, I could tell that this needed to happen without those two around. So you’re aware of what I am?”
“I am. Before I was with NCIS I was a regular boy in blue, six years. Walking the beat means being a part of the community, interacting with it fairly closely.”
“Which means you learned secrets, who is who and what.”
“So you’re aware of Hunters as well?”
Stiles watched as Tony’s face darkened. “Yes, yes I am.”
“Right, well, before you tell me whatever wonderful story that put that look on your face, I should tell you about what would be found if a thorough and illegal search into my background was ever done on me.” Stiles proceeded to inform Tony all about the exciting life and times of the Beacon Hills pack, the color behind the dry facts that would be listed in his file. “There’s a sealed file that only the SecNav, the Judge Advocate General, the Director of the FBI, and the Commandant of the Marine Corps has access to and knows about. Should anyone ever request to see it, all of them, and myself, would be notified.”
“It lists everything—sans supernatural aspects—regarding the stay at Eichen?”
“Yes, and a few other items, including the Dead Pool.”
Tony blew out a breath, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “All right. I am going to go collect the video and interview the waitstaff at the diner. You go back inside. This is my card if you think of anything I need to know regarding the murder.”
Stiles left, tucking the card into his wallet, number already in his phone.
“Tell me about the unit,” Gibbs ordered, fresh coffee in his hand.
“Most of the unit comes off clean, except for this guy,” McGee said bringing up the picture of young Marine in his mid 20s. “Corporal Mieczyslaw Stilinski, 27, Beacon Hills, California. His—”
Tony interrupted, not caring how out of the ordinary this was. “Hang on, he was cleared. I remember, very clearly, crossing this guy off the list because he had an alibi. An alibi, mind you, that was backed up with video evidence. So please explain why we are wasting time going over this background instead of someone more feasible?”
“We are just supposed to take you at your word, Tony?” Ziva asked, derision in word.
“Well, yes, Ziva, you are, seeing as I am the senior agent here, but also since I have proof. Which all of you would have known if you had looked.” Tony looked to Gibbs for backup, but he just waved at McGee to continue.
“He had this file that was sealed, you should see what was in it!”
Tony stood there in a rage for a moment as Ziva and McGee grinned smugly at him before he turned and grabbed few things off his desk. That conversation he had had with Stiles really had gotten him thinking and so he had prepared some things to give to certain people should a meeting come to pass, and now it looked like it was going to happen.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Gibbs growled, noticing that his SFA was no longer paying attention, and in fact leaving the bull pen. “I did not give you permission to leave.”
“I am continuing the investigation since the rest of you are suffering from tunnel vision. I have no idea what bug has gotten up your collective butts, but that Marine has been cleared. I will not be party to harassing an innocent man because you are too focused on someone just to be contrary with me.” He kept his voice low, as making a scene was just not something that was done as a professional—despite what his teammates seemed to think.
Tony walked off before anyone could grab him. While in the stairwell, he turned off his NCIS phone so that Abby could not ping his location, knowing that Gibbs would ask her to. He then sent a text message to one of the few lawyers he knew he could trust with his personal phone. This one was not listed under his name and only certain people had the number. Paranoia, thy name was Tony.
“Please tell me that you can get me a meeting with the JAG ASAP. Emergency meeting, might affect all NCIS cases relating to MCRT. Also might need SecNav. Need to meet in location where able to sneak in. Please do not alert Gibbs or Director.”
Tony reached his car in record time, throwing his stuff inside and getting out of Dodge. Once he found a place to park without cameras, he removed all of his belongings, ordered a taxi and went to the location that Harmon Rabb had texted back.
The building was nondescript from the outside, and it calmed all of Tony’s nerves. Once he texted he had arrived, though, the door opened and Harm escorted him inside a very comfortable clubhouse. It reminded him of the sorts of places his father fought to be invited to.
Sitting around a mahogany table were the SecNav and the JAG along with Harmon Rabb and Sarah MacKenzie.
“Right, so Agent DiNozzo, please explain this meeting,” requested Admiral Chegwidden.
Tony opened his bag and laid out the files he had brought. “First let me talk about what has happened today with the current case and then work backwards. In the middle of the night we were called out to a scene at the Dove Nightclub at the edge of the Circle. A unit on leave had been celebrating their first night off, as they are wont to do, and one of their members was unfortunately murdered. During the course of the initial crime scene sweep with my team there was some insubordination, which you will see in the write ups there—we will get to the inconsistencies momentarily—and then we moved on to the background checks for the unit.
“One of the unit members, a Corporal Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, was on my list of people to check out. We had a long conversation, in which he told me his whereabouts—I did check it out, and he did have a valid alibi backed up by video and witnesses—so I crossed him off the suspect list. This should have been the end of his involvement aside from his assessment of the rest of his unit.
“I should note that I did notice his tattoos—” at this, the JAG and SecNav both nodded that they understood, “—and he noticed my noticing, and we spoke a bit about our mutual experiences. His assessments of his fellow unit members were spot on, by the way. I’m sure being the son of the town Sheriff has honed his observational skills, and everything he has been through has also helped with his situational awareness and body reading skills.
“In any case, he did inform me of his sealed file, what it contained, more or less, and who would have access should I need to know. I did not inform anyone else about it since his alibi did check out and there was no need to do a deeper dive.”
“Then I don’t understand what we are doing here,” Secretary Davenport stated, sipping at his whiskey.
Rabb and MacKenzie stayed quiet, seemingly taking notes to refer back to later, which didn’t bother DiNozzo in the least. He knew there were going to be questions. Lots and lots of questions.
“We’re getting to that right now. Right before I left, it seems they had decided to focus on Stiles as the main suspect in the murder because of his history in Beacon Hills. I’m fairly sure that simply because I am the one that crossed him off the suspect list, they—McGee and David—elected to prove me wrong and went to do a deep dive on him. They also decided to open up that sealed file.”
At that the SecNav sat up straight and put his drink down on the table with a thunk. “And how, may I ask, did they get into that file without my knowing? There are directives associated with that file that would mean notifying myself and at least four others should it need to be accessed, as well as Corporal Stilinski himself.” The anger was evident from his tone and the clenched fists, if not his glare.
“Well, sir, McGee and Sciuto have a habit of hacking first, getting swept under the rug later.”
“Actually,” Harm interrupted, “what they do is hack first and lose us cases later. This is a rampant problem with the MCRT that we have brought up multiple times since Agent McGee has joined the team. Between him and Sciuto, we have lost many cases because they do not have warrants.
“I have read the reports you have submitted, DiNozzo, and you do indicate that you have requested warrants for these acts, but that the people indicated have not waited for them to arrive. Sometimes, they haven’t even mentioned to anyone else what they are doing until it’s a fait accompli. I have the impression that Agent Gibbs encourages it without explicitly saying anything.”
“That’s basically what happens. I can’t tell you how many times I have explained to them that they are risking our cases that way, and they just wave me away. Gibbs has undermined my authority to a dangerous degree, and the new Director is not helping in the least.”
They all sat there quietly digesting this for a moment before the SecNav picked up his phone and started informing the relevant parties about the breach. “DiNozzo, please call Stilinski—”
“Actually, sir, I think I should do that,” Mac interjected. “Should DiNozzo be the one to contact him, it would be considered interference if they are bringing him in for questioning. Better that a lawyer contact him. Hand me the number, please.”
Tony handed over the phone number and she proceeded to call him. It seemed Lady Luck was on their side, so to speak, as he had just received a request to come in for some additional questions by an Agent McGee. Upon receiving the news that his file was unlawfully unsealed, Stiles became enraged.
“What exactly are they planning on doing with the information in that file? Eichen house is nothing to sneeze at, and what happened there—”
“We know, Stiles,” DiNozzo assured him, hoping to calm him. “We know. What you need to do is go in there as if you know nothing. You have a rock solid alibi and there is nothing they can do about it. This isn’t really about you.”
“They are doing this because you’re the one that checked me out?” the disbelief coming through loud and clear over the speaker phone. “What the hell, DiNozzo? I mean, really, talk about unprofessional.”
“I am going to make sure there is a witness in the observation room recording everything, Corporal, and if you want representation, you just call this number immediately. If they bring up any information regarding the file, you invoke a lawyer immediately, do you hear me?” Mac ordered him, taking back over the conversation. “The moment they tip their hand that they know more than they should, you shout lawyer.”
“Corporal, this is Secretary Davenport. I will be looking into this as well. Agent DiNozzo brought this to us directly as soon as he was made aware of the breach. This gross misconduct will not go without punishment.”
“Thank you, Mr. Secretary. I have to say, I hope this isn’t how NCIS usually operates. My father would fire the hell out of any one of his deputies that violated the law like that.
“Okay, I am heading in. I actually think that I should have a lawyer from the outset, as it’s fishy that they should need anything from me at this point. Would you mind meeting me there?”
Sarah gave her ascent and they hung up.
“Now, Agent DiNozzo, what is with the rest of this paperwork?” Admiral Chegwidden asked.
“Right, so a lot has been happening over the last few months since Officer David has joined our ranks, most of it not good. Morale has gone down the toilet—a lot of it my own—and the insubordination has risen. There have been numerous complaints filed not just by myself, but by other team leaders and senior field agents against Officer David, Agent McGee, and Abigail Scuito. However, they magically never seem to be addressed. I thought maybe the director was just signing off on them, saying they were negligible, but then I found out that they just were never making it to her.”
“What? How can that be?” Harm asked, sliding a few over to himself to read through them. It seemed that there were separate files for each person named.
“Well, I had one of the cyber geeks that isn’t enamored with McGee take a gander at what was going on when I submitted the latest set of complaints from this morning’s—last night?—crime scene. They kept an eye on what happened after I submitted them digitally and lo and behold, the moment they went into the queue, they were automatically dismissed as resolved and marked as not to be entered into the permanent record. After two days they will be erased from the system completely.
“It seems that someone—that someone being Abigail Sciuto—has written a code and slipped it into the system that does all of this automatically. She implemented it about a week after McGee started working on MCRT permanently, and added Ziva to the list about a month after she joined. Good thing all of us know to keep hard copies of all paperwork.”
The group of them read through all of the complaints, ranging from Abby’s music and ridiculous lab rules, to slowing down and preference for evidence processing. McGee had multiple insubordination complaints that increased once Officer David had joined, as well as hacking complaints from outside agencies. Officer David had multiple insubordination complaints as well as assaults and threats. It seemed that she had a problem keeping herself to herself. She also couldn’t seem to distinguish Mossad from NCIS.
“Explain the complaints and issue regarding David, please,” Rabb requested as he continued to flip through her file, passing them on to the Admiral as he did so. “They are quite alarming and have the ability to affect the cases, I think.”
“Yes! Yes, thank you. I have repeatedly requested that her access be restricted, but the director has been overruling me for some reason. David is an outside agent and should not be on our team at all, she has no training, and she refuses to follow the chain of command. There is no reason for her to have access to anywhere near the number of files that she does and I keep trying to curb it.”
“What about these threats?”
“Well, Admiral, she makes a habit of letting us all know how things are done in the Mossad while playing with her knife. Sometimes, she will follow me into the men’s room in order to try and get information out of me, or sometimes she corners someone to try and intimidate them just for the hell of it, and so on and so forth. I’m fairly sure all of this can be seen on video.”
“Why hasn’t Internal Affairs been notified, and why aren’t we sitting with at least one representative in this meeting? Or at least one from the FBI?” questioned the SecNav.
“Because, sir, I can’t be sure who does and doesn’t owe Gibbs a favor. Frankly, sir, a stupid amount of people just do what Gibbs tells them in that agency. And as far as the FBI goes, the moment you mention Gibbs, they tell Fornell, who then tells Gibbs. If I was sure that I could get around that bromance, then there would be someone here.” Tony sat back and finally poured himself a drink. “To even get here I had to ditch my own car and work phone just to be sure that I wouldn’t be tracked because Sciuto would definitely be directed to do all of those things.”
Davenport and Chegwidden silently conversed until Chegwidden pulled his phone and made one more phone call. “Morrow, are you busy?”
“Not at the moment. I assume that I am about to be?”
“Yes, I need you to meet me at the following address, some things I need to show you, get your opinion on.”
“Be there in ten.”
Tony ran a hand over his face again, the entire situation’s weight readily apparent in his expression. “How do you think they’re doing over there?”
“Our inside woman is recording the entire ordeal, so we’ll know exactly how they are doing, but ask anyway, for posterity,” Chegwidden remarked as he continued to make notes from the files he was reading. He stopped for a moment and sent a text to Sarah.
“Reiterate, after speaking with the Corporal, that he has an alibi, and that is the bottom line for everything relevant. They have nothing to hold him on, and leave with him. If they try to charge him, call me immediately.”
Davenport paused as Morrow entered the room. “Tell her that if they bring up the sealed file with her in the room, both of them stand up and leave and inform them that JAG will be filing charges of our own.”
AJ nodded, continuing to text. He received an approving response.
“What have I just walked into? And why are you here without your other half, DiNozzo?” Morrow took out his phone to make a call, but Rabb grabbed his phone out of his hand before he could dial.
“Morrow, sit your ass down and listen before you do something stupid,” Chegwidden ordered. “Read these, and see what’s become of your agency since you’ve left.”
“And really, do you think Gibbs wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t part of the problem?” Tony added, his voice tired. “Ever since the whole Ari fiasco, where you let him run rampant with his revenge, he’s forgotten what the law is. He’s decided that it applies here, but not there. This person deserves justice, but this person deserves bending rules. Read through all of that, and then tell me there isn’t a problem.”
“We are leaving, is what’s happening,” Sarah reiterated, shocked that they were trying to block her and her client from leaving. “You have nothing to charge my client with, and in fact are on the way to having charges pending against you.”
“Are you threatening me?” Gibbs growled, trying to get into her space.
“Agent Gibbs, at no time have I invited you into my personal space. Please return to the other side of the room as is appropriate. Before I add charges.” MacKenzie stood stiffly, glaring, until he moved away, refusing to be intimidated by him. “Unless you want to add a lawsuit for false arrest and imprisonment, when you know he has an alibi and could not possibly have had anything to do with this crime, there is nothing more to say here.”
Turning to Stiles, she motioned him ahead of her, “Let’s go.” Not waiting for another interruption, the two of them exited the room and then the building as quickly as possible. Both of them ignored the hails of the agents behind them, MacKenzie already dialing the Admiral as she headed to her car.
“Did you need a ride?” she asked Stiles.
“Yes, please. I took a cab here.”
“Come on, then.”
“I assume this means you’ve rescued Corp. Stilinski?”
“Then I will start collecting the recording of the interview itself, good job.”
Sarah hung up the phone without another word, concentrating on making it out of the orange monstrosity without issue. She didn’t breathe freely again until they were in her car and through the front gate.
By the time she had dropped off her client and made it back to ‘base’, so to speak, Sarah had calmed and reviewed the interview and interactions with the MCRT in her mind. She also knew that the rest of them, the gentlemen she had left behind, would have reviewed the tape already.
“So, what do you think?” Sarah asked as she walked in the door.
“What the hell has happened to that place since I’ve been gone?” Morrow opined. “I honestly don’t recognize the people on that tape.”
“I can tell you that I was on the verge of leaving before this case came up—a case which needs to be handed off to another team, by the way, if you want it to be solved—and this just cemented that I need to be done with them all. I can’t trust anyone there.” Tony glared at Morrow, daring him to push.
“I—okay, yes, I agree, it’s probably best if you leave the agency. You are a damn fine agent, Tony, and I hate to see you wasted. You were a fantastic counterbalance to Gibbs—”
“Except that was ruined when he undermined me the moment an attractive female was added to our team.”
Morrow inclined his head, acquiescing to the point.
“Perhaps this should all be settled later on. Right now we need to figure out what to do about this immense breach of confidentiality, as it is not just us that will be upset by it.” The SecNav paced alongside the table full of files and computers, his shoulders tense and his gait stiff.
“Corp. Stilinski will be joining us once he squares his belongings and whatnot. I know he wanted to set something up in case the agents were trying to trace his whereabouts,” MacKenzie informed them all.
Everyone got back to work to put together a report for the President, the person they decided needed to make the ultimate decision on what had to happen, until Stiles arrived. Only so many people were in the know, and the MCRT breaching that file put that knowledge at risk.
By the time Stiles arrived, the finishing touches were being put on the report. “Hello sirs, ma’am. Anyone want to fill me in on how this went FUBAR in so short a time?”
A moment of silent conversation before Tony bit the bullet and gave Stiles a rundown on the history of his team, and more importantly, the newest addition to the team and her impact. Stiles was no longer a suspect in a case, but an equal in a larger problem trying to help keep the sharks at bay.
“Wow, that makes, like, no sense at all. What happened to operational security? And how do any cases hold up in court if she’s involved in any cases? Can she even testify? Touch evidence? I mean—”
“See? Even he gets it! How is it that Director Shepard and Gibbs are completely blind to these issues?” Tony asked, exasperated.
“I’m sure the President will be rectifying all the issues that have come to light, young man,” Admiral Chegwidden assured Stiles.
Two years later
Stiles was happy to finally be hearing those words, “approaching landing.” Never had he been so intent on returning home as this trip—his final trip home. Stiles Stilinski—Sergeant, now—had not renewed his contract and was being honorably discharged from the United States Marine Corps.
Upon debrief, Stiles knew that he would be offered, yet again, a position with the CIA, which he would, yet again, turn down. No way would he work with those fuckers. Nor would he touch the FBI. Work with the people who employed Daddy McCall? No thanks.
No, Stiles was keen to join his best friend, his confidante—Anthony Dominic DiNozzo, Junior— in New York. After Tony had left the hot mess that was NCIS he had decided to leave himself open to offers, waiting to see who would still want him after all of the idiocy that went down in DC. Seemed like some rumor mongering was happening and Tony was suffering for it. After a little digging, it turned out that Scuito, with a little help from DiNozzo, Senior, was at the root of it and it was put a stop, right quick.
Soon enough, offers did start pouring in. After talking it over with Admiral Chegwidden, and surprisingly, Stiles’ father—there was a friendship that came out of nowhere—Tony decided to go with an offer from the NYPD. Working with people, helping people, was what he always wanted. He worked closely with the crime lab there, which they appreciated.
Stiles himself was hoping to interview with the crime lab, as well. His focus was chemistry while in college, and he worked with explosives and any mysterious substances in the corps.
His head in the clouds, Stiles almost didn’t see Tony waiting for him when he exited the base.